Showing posts with label Tyler Walker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tyler Walker. Show all posts

Monday, August 4, 2014

Shaw-Doran Mt. Wash climb


Paralympian and all-around bad ass athlete Tyler Walker (and teammate Laurie Stephens) climbed the Mt. Washington Auto Road in wheelchairs yesterday as part of the Adaptive Sports Partners of the North Country's annual Sunrise Ascent fundraiser. In honor of the event, here's a story of the first wheelchair ascent, from the August 13, 2005 Caledonian-Record.

BY MEGHAN McCARTHY

Staff Writer
Cam Shaw-Doran climbs hills mainly for the pure thrill of a speedy descent.
When he pushed to the top of the northeast’s highest peak last week, however, it was not for the glory of the downhill ride, but to become the first person in a wheelchair ever to summit 6,288-foot Mount Washington.
“We didn’t train at all. We just went over and did it,” Shaw-Doran said of the hike suggested by his friend Geoff Krill, who is also in a wheelchair.
The two set off up the Mount Washington Auto Road early Aug. 1 with a few friends and a video camera to document the trek. While Krill, exhausted, gave up the effort around the six mile mark – the road is 7.6 miles long – Shaw-Doran pushed on, reaching the summit at dusk.
Natives of the North Country, Krill and Shaw-Doran were both avid athletes and adventure-seekers prior to being paralyzed by separate accidents in the 1990s. Their Mount Washington hike is just one in a string of activities both men continue to pursue.
“Geoff totally lied to me,” Shaw-Doran, 26, said of the Washington climb. “He said, ‘Oh, yeah, the first mile’s the worst part.’ It just kind of got steeper and steeper.”
The feat took about 14 and a half hours and included pushing through some serious pain, as well as a hearty dose of the mountain’s infamous weather – chilling fog, squalling winds, and a succession of rain storms.
“I never felt like I wanted to stop, but I felt like I might not make it,” Shaw-Doran said this week, recalling severe muscle cramps and debilitating pain in his elbow. “Everything hurt.”
The climb was especially rough on his hands, which eventually became numb. To keep them from slipping off his rain-slicked, mountain bike-style tires, Shaw-Doran wedged his hands between spokes to turn the wheels of his chair.
The toughest stretch was a two-mile section of gravel. While Shaw-Doran pushed with all of his might on his chair’s large back wheels, the smaller front wheels would sink and spin. For much of the climb, his torso was pressed flat against his legs as he struggled to continue moving upwards without slipping back, especially near the end of the climb, where the grade is 22 percent – about a 45 degree angle.
“It’s brutal on your body,” Krill said. “It’s a great experience, but it’s not something that you’d want to do all the time.”
Krill, who has climbed other mountains on hiking trails in what he described as a team effort, said Washington was not on his peak-bagging to-do list, mainly because much of the route is paved. The motivation for the climb came at the end of June with a newspaper report that a man from Pennsylvania had tried unsuccessfully to reach the top of the mountain in a wheelchair.
When he realized no one in a wheelchair had ever summited Washington, Krill asked Shaw-Doran if he was up to the challenge.
“It’s our home state, and that’s the kind of thing we do around here,” Krill said. “It just made sense.”
While Krill did not reach the summit last week – he was bogged down by a 45-pound chair he said sapped his strength – he encouraged Shaw-Doran to keep pushing to get there.
“One of us had to make it up there,” Krill said. “You don’t go through this much effort and not make it.”

Against the grain
Shaw-Doran lives in Easton with world ski champion and lifelong friend Bode Miller in a house tucked behind the Tamarack Tennis Camp run by Miller’s family. The house has been dubbed “Cam-Bode-a” (pronounced: Cambodia) by some friends.
Before the car accident seven years ago that left Shaw-Doran’s legs paralyzed, he was an avid snowboarder. While the accident robbed Shaw-Doran of the use of his lower limbs, however, it has done little to diminish his playfully rebellious side.
In the first big air snowboarding contest Shaw-Doran entered as a kid, he was disqualified for doing a backwards inversion. Despite the disqualification, his jump – which he said he landed cleanly – was a big hit with spectators.
Shaw-Doran said it took him a year after the accident – six months of which were spent in the hospital – to be able to get around on his own. Gradually, he started hand-cycling, then skiing with a mono-ski – a bucket chair that rides on a single ski.
Now, he said, he can rip turns on any mountain in the winter and puts in 1,000 miles or more on his bike every summer. He’s a common sight along Easton Valley Road, arms pumping, chest heaving, as he works to spin the wheels and propel his bike along the pavement.
He’s also a student at Plymouth State University, where he’s working toward a degree in business.
Krill, who taught him how to ski with the mono-ski, said it took a little while to convince Shaw-Doran to get active again. Now the two spend a lot of time skiing and biking together.
“Life’s pretty cool in a wheelchair, and he’s figured that out,” said Krill, who was paralyzed in a snowmobile accident 10 years ago.
Krill is now the winter sports coordinator at the Loon Mountain adaptive ski program, where he teaches others who are wheelchair-bound that there’s plenty of fun to be had in the arena of the White Mountains.
Krill is also the first person to mono-ski Mount Washington’s legendary Tuckerman Ravine, a feat he accomplished this March.
Shaw-Doran has also figured out how to get going really fast on his bike. That love of speed – and his tendency to go confidently a little bit against the grain – is something he shares with Miller, who may be the fastest guy on the mountain on any given day, but is unlikely to show too much semblance of traditional form.
Shaw-Doran said the fastest he’s ever gone on his bike – about 60 miles-per-hour – was coming down Three Mile Hill in Franconia.
“I was kind of cheating,” he admitted. “Because I was drafting Bode in his Porsche.”

Inspiring others
Krill and Shaw-Doran both said they don’t have much desire to climb Mount Washington again. Krill would rather hike in his modified mountain chair, which has two long poles at the front – instead of the standard small front wheels – in what he described as a rickshaw style that allows other hikers to help pull him through river crossings and over boulders.
“There’s a lot of other things I would do before [hiking Washington],” Krill said. “I would rather go to places that are a little bit more pristine – I guess paths less traveled.”
Shaw-Doran would rather be out on the road with his hand-cycle or on a snowy mountain with his ski.
“I think I’ll bike across the United States,” Shaw-Doran said when asked what his next adventure would be. “That’s just an idea. I’ve always wanted to do it.”
Krill is game, and the two may embark on that long journey next summer, he said, if they can find the time and the sponsorship money to do it.
If they go, Krill said, he’d like the expedition to include visiting rehabilitation hospitals along the way. He hopes to carry a variety of sports gear to demonstrate to others in wheelchairs the vast possibilities for athletic and recreational activities.
“They just don’t realize what’s out there,” he said. “They need to see people doing it, who are active in it, to understand.”
While Krill said he and Shaw-Doran didn’t want any media attention prior to the Washington hike, because it would have taken away from their enjoyment of it, he said rousing others into action was one of his prime motivating factors.
“It’s great for the attention afterwards, because maybe it’ll inspire someone else in a chair,” Krill said.
Inspiration seems to be all in a day’s work – or a day’s play – for Krill.
“I would have never, ever gone or tried or made it without Geoff. I wish he could have been there with me,” Shaw-Doran said of his successful summit of the mountain. Then, with a grin, Shaw-Doran remembered that Krill has already achieved his own first on Washington: the mono-ski run down Tuck’s.
“He owns the other side of the mountain,” Shaw-Doran said.

Friday, February 14, 2014

Olympic dreaming

I love the Olympics. Always have. Probably always will. I love competition of most any type, and the Olympics – when the best athletes from across the globe come together to compete on the world’s stage in sports from popular to obscure – seem the epitome of competition.
Olympic dreaming in the mid-1980s


Yes, there are always distractions, especially so in this Sochi Olympics of unfinished hotels, political unrest, and the regular claims of corruption. But, for me at least, the Olympics are about the athletes who have dedicated more time than most of us will ever know to chasing their Olympic dreams. Here, we see athletic grace and grit, strength and stamina, a bit of luck and plenty of determination as they strive to realize the Olympic motto: faster, higher, stronger.

When I was a kid I dreamed of being in the Olympics. Probably a lot of kids involved in sports have similar dreams. I went as far as picking out a specific star on the American flag I would focus on as The Star-Spangled Banner played for my gold medal ceremony. I planned to sing along, and probably cry, too. I just wasn’t sure which sport to pursue to the Olympic level.

While my Olympic dreams are long gone, faded without realization or regret, I still love watching the Games. I enjoy hearing a few of the Olympians’ stories, watching some of them realize their own Olympic dreams, whether winning gold or simply being a part of the show. I still love to watch the competition and be inspired in my own meagre athletic endeavors to be a bit faster, higher, stronger.

As a young ski racer, I wanted to be fast like Tamara McKinney. When I started running track in high school, I adopted Carl Lewis’s manner of holding my hands stiff and straight while sprinting. I’m a total Olympic sap and have shed tears at many an Olympic moment – when Dan Jansen finally found gold in 1994, when Brandi Chastain scored the winning shootout goal in the inaugural gold medal game in women’s soccer in 1996, when Kerri Strug stuck her one-footed landing the same year. I’ve cheered for the Jamaican bobsled team and England’s lovable Eddie the Eagle and felt my own rush of adrenaline when Bode Miller nearly crashed, then miraculously recovered, in the downhill portion of the combined race in 2002.

That winter, 2002, was my first back in New England, and I was working both as a ski coach at Cannon and in the Franconia Sport Shop the year Bode won his first two Olympic medals. Reporters started showing up around town, trying to figure out who Bode Miller is by wandering around the place he grew up. I liked to mess with them a little when they came into the shop asking about Bode. “Bode who?” I’d reply. I didn’t know him any better than they did – I just loved to watch him ski. Still do.

It seems the whole town loves to watch Bode ski, to have a hometown Olympian to cheer on. Lucky for us, we’ve got a few 2014 Olympians in our region, including three who’ve honed their skills on Cannon Mountain: Bode in his fifth Olympics, Tyler Walker competing in his third Paralympics, and Julia Ford, a first-time Olympian who spent her final years before making the U.S. Ski Team training with the Holderness School and Franconia Ski Club on Cannon’s slopes. They join a long legacy of Cannon Olympians, stretching back to the earliest days of skiing on the mountain.

And let’s not forget 2013 Burke Mountain Academy graduate Mikaela Shiffrin, who had her first World Cup globe on the trophy shelf – and plenty of podium finishes – before graduating high school. She’s a Colorado girl by birth, but there will be plenty of ski racing fans around here cheering her on these Olympics.

It doesn’t seem to matter if folks personally know Bode or Tyler or Julia or Mikaela, we’re all rooting for the home hill Olympians. Banners go up on local businesses to show support and, sometimes – as the Games go on – relay congratulations. The news of their Olympic runs is shared at the Village Store and the post office, watched together at the bar or looked up on iPhones on the chairlift.

We love the good stories behind the other Olympians, from other mountains, even other countries. But there is something special to knowing where the guy or girl you’re rooting for comes from. There’s a thrill in making turns on the same trails they have, even if theirs were faster and en route to skiing greatness. And every now and then, if you watch the smallest skiers on the hill, you’ll catch a glimmer of a new Olympic dream taking shape.

Original content by Meghan McCarthy McPhaul, posted to her Blog: Writings From a Full Life. This essay also appears as Meghan's Close to Home column in the February 14, 2014 edition of the Littleton Record.